


bring me your eyes, i wish to see like you

by seven_of_cups



Series: when i die, the earth as my bride, give me a dark and shady home [1]
Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Past Rape/Non-con, abuse/trauma discussion throughout but not graphic, but needing human contact, faustus discussed and is in flashbacks, i put the identifying sentences in the notes so you can skip over it if you need/want to, please read the notes before you dive in!!!, there are only two paragraphs that detail The Bad Stuff, they're very damaged and emotionally incompetent, this is zelda and lilith being bad at emotions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-29 13:47:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19021195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seven_of_cups/pseuds/seven_of_cups
Summary: In the aftermath of Faustus, Zelda's left to pick up the pieces. Lilith visits to see how she's faring.





	bring me your eyes, i wish to see like you

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Darlin' by Houndmouth
> 
> I took a prompt that I got on tumblr and ran with it. find me there at spellman-sisters-mortuary ! 
> 
> Though the descriptions of Zelda's experience on her honeymoon aren't super graphic, they could be triggering. It's two paragraphs. The first begins "She remembered Faustus sitting..." and the safe paragraph starts with "Have you told Hilda..."

The fire was dwindling by now, popping and cracking in loud spurts as it sent embers up the flue in swirling gusts. At least the candles gave her some light to see by. Though they too were burning low. Zelda hadn’t checked the time in a long while, and she dared not to now, fearing it would cause her undue stress. Since Faustus’s disappearance with Judas and Leticia, things had been hectic at the Academy—in the coven. She’d just barely managed to gather the remaining members of the Church of Judas in her arms and assure them that things would be better. And they would. They _would_.

The few that were left were sick from the poison, humiliated, and lost. She’d looked at the witches and warlocks laid across her sitting room floor that day, the last of her church, and felt such profound sadness and anger that she could barely contain it. In that moment, small as it was, barely a flicker, she knew that she would be the one to step up and bring them to their feet. Not in an opportunistic way or even for the sake of vain ambition as she’d done with Faustus. She’d seen him in a way that no one else had, and she hadn’t done anything. She’d suspected and then pushed it down, and then she _knew_ , and she stayed silent. She watched it play out, high above her body, felt the pain in her chest when she saw what Faustus had done to the coven. Their deaths were on _her_ , and they weighed on her shoulders every moment of every day. So there was a certain sense of duty she felt, a mournful obligation, to make things right. And it certainly wasn’t anything like she’d planned.

Being High Priestess was taxing. She’d barely had a moment to breathe in the weeks since her self-appointment. Though Zelda had risen as Faustus’s natural successor in the chaos, she was sure that once the dust had settled, there were people who would challenge her. The Council wasn’t particularly thrilled with her status and continued to refer to this as an interim position for her until they could find a suitable replacement. Furious, she’d begun focusing on her administrative duties instead, trying to pick up the pieces of the Academy with broken fingers. So she’d been staying late at the office—Faustus’s office—the shambles of his legacy dripping through her fingers. Everything here reminded her of him, but she pushed it down for the coven. Though, she had to admit, it was more difficult to keep her demons at bay once night fell.

All at once a gust swept through the room, and Zelda’s eyelids fluttered in surprise as she set down her pen, glancing up and around. The air crackled with magic, and the hair on the back of Zelda’s neck stood on end. Heels clicked lazily from the shadows, and a figure emerged with long dark hair and a deep red gown. Zelda immediately stood up when she realized who it was, smoothing out her dress which had become horrifically wrinkled since she’d put it on this morning. Rather embarrassed and with an undignified amount of shock, Zelda bowed her head out of respect for the Queen of Hell. “Your Majesty,” she breathed quickly, without thought. Lilith scoffed as she approached, and Zelda lifted her eyes.

“You needn’t throw yourself at my feet now, Zelda. It’s too late for that,” Lilith said, her voice quick and enunciated, entirely uninterested as she sauntered to Zelda’s desk, eyeing her things and the candles dripping wax. “Though I do appreciate the sentiment,” she said, trailing her manicured nails across the wood, slow and deliberate. The fire that flared behind her eyes told Zelda that she truly did enjoy her quick and easy devotion, the humility, the submission.

“And what can I do for you at this hour?” Zelda asked then, embarrassed, offering Lilith a seat with an outstretched arm. Lilith’s lips quirked up, and she huffed out an amused laugh as she eased down into the chair across the desk from Zelda, her velvet dress pulling as she sat.  

“I’m afraid I’m not sure. You’re the one who keeps summoning me,” Lilith explained, her voice lilting up, quirking her head to the side as her eyes burned into Zelda. And she stopped there, her fingers draped over the edges of the arm rests, one leg folded over the other like this was her own throne. Zelda was left stumbling in the silence, not knowing if Lilith was intending to say something more or if she was just going to sit there and stare.

“Yes, well,” Zelda finally breathed, “there are some issues that must be addressed. Very few people within the church are aware you’ve taken the crown. The Council is...in disarray. They’ve asked to see the boy, Nicholas Scratch.” Lilith’s eyes narrowed for a moment, and she pursed her lips, her fingers tapping out a rhythm on the chair.

“Well, I’ve been rather busy reclaiming Hell, dear,” she breathed deeply, so breezy and dismissive. “It might shock you to know that the hierarchy there is just as misogynistic as all your Churches of Night.” Zelda opened her mouth, her lashes fluttering, when Lilith came down hard on the “t”.

“That must be difficult. Defending the throne by yourself,” Zelda offered, and she could only imagine what Lilith had had to do for it, the bared teeth and bloody slaughter of her own creations. Did she consider them her children?

“It’s not as though I have a choice,” Lilith scoffed and then glanced around Faustus’s office. “Though I’m curious why you _truly_ summoned me here,” she trailed off, gaze settling back on Zelda who blinked.

“I beg your pardon? I simply asked you here to relay a message. Do with it what you will, _I_ certainly don’t care.”

“Oh, please. I suspect you care quite _deeply_ about the Dark Lord’s—and therefore Mr. Scratch’s—fate after his plans for Sabrina were revealed rather... _spectacularly_ ,” Lilith breathed. Zelda bristled at the mention of Sabrina.

“I recall you playing a large hand in those plans,” Zelda countered, her voice taking on a dangerous edge, almost an accusation. Lilith exhaled forcefully through her nose, rolling her eyes.

“If it hadn’t been _me_ , it would have been someone _else_ ,” she drawled, her voice tinged with annoyance, “Besides, Sabrina was destined to do exactly what she did from the moment of conception. And I certainly had nothing to do with _that_ ,” she reminded her rather pointedly. “Either way, do you actually believe that I’m going to let a _Council of Warlocks_ who’ve faithfully served the Dark Lord for millenia get their grubby little hands anywhere near Nicholas Scratch?” Lilith scoffed, a smirk teasing her lips. And then she laughed silently, her chest bobbing and her eyes wrinkling. “Ms. Spellman, we both know that’s never going to happen. Though I’d invite them to try, to bring all their bravado and mildewed robes. Really, I—I’d love to see what would happen to them,” she nearly encouraged, her eyes shining with malicious brilliance. “So, again, I’m curious. Why have you been summoning me—praying, really. I do tune in sometimes, you know. What is a woman like _Zelda Spellman_ doing on her knees in the dead of night asking to be _seen_?”

Feeling much too claustrophobic and incredibly embarrassed, Zelda took another drag from her cigarette. “When you put it that way, it sounds rather unbecoming,” she drawled with a scoff, her eyes flicking away from Lilith’s piercing stare.

“Dear, I was rather trying to _save_ your dignity,” she breathed. Zelda pressed her lips together and tilted her chin up, trying to keep her pride intact as she tapped her cigarette over the ashtray. Lilith took a breath, “They’re arrogant and self-righteous. They should be focusing on mending the coven not protecting their fragile masculinity. I’d like to—” she mused, Zelda’s prayers echoing back to her verbatim through Lilith’s lips. Though her tone was much flatter, less frantic and desperately angry than Zelda’s when she’d said those words at her bedside one awful night.

“Alright, thank you, that’s quite enough,” Zelda rushed. Her face flushed and her chest tightened as she pushed back her chair and stood just behind it, a rather panicked defense mechanism. “Did you just come here to mock me, or would you like me to grovel as well?” she accused, folding an arm over her middle and resting her elbow on top of her hand so she could hold her cigarette at face level.

“As delightful as that sounds, there’s no need to be dramatic. I’m here to help, as requested,” she offered, opening her arms. Zelda fiddled with her cigarette holder, bringing it to her lips again.

“I didn’t ask for it,” she countered, smoke curling from her lips as she spoke.

“Then why did you pray to me?” Lilith countered. Zelda inhaled deeply, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

“I never thought I’d have to _answer_ for my prayers,” she responded defensively, her voice lilting up, trying to cover her unease.

“Please, dear, skip the theatrics and just answer the question. Why am I here?” Lilith breathed, almost bored, certainly annoyed. Zelda hesitated while Lilith just stared at her with a raised brow and all the time in the world.

“I suppose I suspected that you wouldn’t give up Nicholas and wanted to know what we should do about the Council’s demands,” she answered finally, haughty and distant, too much like her usual demeanor at the Academy. Lilith saw straight through it and narrowed her eyes, lifting her chin.

“Have you already forgotten that I can hear when I’m being prayed to? Don’t lie to me,” she warned. And Zelda could certainly recall herself in a nightgown, head down against her bed, fingers interlocked tightly. There were more than a few nights she knelt there barely knowing what to say and being too proud to ask for help, for guidance, but just crying. Not knowing how to express her frustration in any way that mattered. She loathed the idea of Lilith, of anyone, seeing her like that. It made her sick to her stomach.

“I’m not sure what you expect me to say,” Zelda choked out, a lump forming in her throat, her stance behind the chair acting as a shield.

“Well let’s start with the Caligari spell,” Lilith breathed, cocking her head. Zelda’s stomach dropped. She frowned.

“How did you…” She’d never mentioned that awful spell in her prayers. She’d made a point not to, couldn’t even admit to herself that it had happened. So someone had been praying for her then. She hadn’t entertained that possibility before, hadn’t expected it. She didn’t think she’d ever given anyone _reason_ to worry for her to the point of unholy intervention. In fact, she took great pains to make sure that no one _had_ to. It all made Zelda feel rather laid bare in front of the Queen of Hell. And then it clicked. “Hilda,” Zelda breathed. She and Sabrina were the only ones in this world who Zelda had told, and Sabrina was too preoccupied and certainly not devout enough to pray for her. Zelda wanted to strangle her sister in that moment, and the desire burned hot and impatient in her chest. “Are you here because of her? Did she ask you to come?” Zelda asked urgently.

“For Hell’s sake, how many times must I tell you? I’m here because _you_ asked me to be here,” Lilith insisted, and Zelda frowned. “Perhaps not in as many words. But if you’re as fine as you make yourself appear to be then you wouldn’t mind telling me what it was like being married to Faustus Blackwood.”

Zelda had an incredibly hard time believing that Lilith felt any kind of emotions for her or even Sabrina. So she was baffled by this weak attempt at a therapy session. Even so, Zelda could hear the challenge hiding somewhere in Lilith’s words, and she wasn’t one to fold so easily. So she blinked and shifted her weight, clearing her throat.

“Well, apparently my voice was quite _dainty_ ,” she explained, enunciating the word at the tip of her mouth, trying to keep it as far away from herself as possible. “And I had an affinity for _twirling_.”

“Oh?” Lilith breathed, knuckles grazing her chin as she tilted it down. Uncomfortable with Lilith’s patient coaxing, Zelda sighed and replaced her cigarette with a fresh one, lighting it with a flick of her fingers.

“Really, there’s not much to tell. I woke up in a floral dress, horrifically low cut, and my face was sore from smiling,” she explained breezily.

“But what was it _like_?” Lilith asked as she cocked her head at Zelda. Zelda just stared at her for a blank moment, not sure how to answer that or what Lilith was expecting of her. Then she blinked, raising her palm to rub against her temple, and cleared her throat, taking a drag from her cigarette. No matter how painful, who was she to deny Lilith anything she wanted?

“It wasn’t pleasant,” Zelda admitted, dismissive. “I experienced everything through a _lens_ , as if I was underwater. There was a certain disconnect…” she took a deep breath, her gaze flickering to the ceiling, anywhere but Lilith. “Like running in a dream. The harder I tried, the slower I went. The faster I sank. So I let myself _float_ for most of it. I...well, I certainly wasn’t able to consent to anything,” Zelda gasped out a laugh. Lilith blinked and shifted in her chair but didn’t say anything. Zelda wasn’t sure what she expected her to say anyway. The implication was clear enough. “Anyway, it gave me a taste of what Faustus expected of me. Without help, I clearly wasn’t living up to his standards.”

“You say that like you’re prepared to now,” Lilith suggested, folding her hands in her lap. Zelda brought her cigarette to her lips slowly, fingers curled delicately, and took a long drag. Some things she remembered quite clearly from the Caligari spell. She remembered Faustus, with all the excitement of a child, telling her how his grand plans were finally coming to fruition. His smile was wide and greedy, and his eyes dripped hellfire in a way that made Zelda’s blood curdle.

She remembered Faustus sitting on the bed in their hotel room, watching her dress for him like a doll. He zipped her up so slow, clasped the dress with sharp nails and his breath raising goosebumps on her neck. She twirled and laughed for him in floral dresses and never said no no matter the circumstance. He was her husband, the High Priest, the Anti-Pope. So he made sure she knew that obedience to him and him alone was a woman’s sacred duty. And he knew best when he sat her down and stroked her hair, so gentle like she was made of china, and whispered all the vile things he’d like to do to her in her ear. Her smile was plastic when he told her to undress for him like a good girl. And she sat inside her own head watching—feeling—as he did things with her body that she was screaming no to.

“I would rather die,” Zelda answered finally, the weight of her words quite literal. Other things she didn’t remember as well. Like how she’d been placed under the spell or the events leading up to it. She didn’t know how many times Faustus had undressed her and kissed her and touched her while her body reacted how a good wife’s should, while her body moaned like it was expected to. She couldn’t remember how many times he’d laid above her, hot and thrumming and bare, and squeezed her throat until she saw spots and her ears were ringing. And she didn’t remember how many times he had used a whip when he was fucking her, but she did have the lashes to prove that he’d done it. All the while Zelda, floating in a daze, felt herself sink further and further into a nightmare, completely helpless and alone.

“Have you told Hilda any of this?” Lilith asked, cocking her head, and Zelda noticed her squeezing her fingers tightly in her lap, fingertips bright red as the blood pooled there. She looked tense, the tendons in her neck taut.

“I really don’t see the point,” Zelda scoffed, eyes flickering around Lilith’s face which was unnervingly blank. “There’s nothing she can do for me, and there’s nothing I expect from her. She has her own life to worry about, and I respect that.”

“I think you respect it a little too much,” Lilith responded, digging her nails into her palm. Zelda, annoyed at Lilith’s assumptions, perhaps because they were true, scoffed. Anyway, all this talk seemed rather hypocritical in Zelda’s eyes.

“Do you even believe a word of what you’re saying? Why are you really here, right now, in this office?” she pushed, her brow furrowed and a frown heavy on her lips. Lilith hesitated, inhaling and holding it there, her chest puffed. She seemed to know that she wouldn’t be able to lie her way out of this one, that Zelda knew something wasn’t right. Lilith didn’t really _care_. She couldn’t, could she? So Lilith let the breath go.

“I chose to be here for the same reason that you _asked_ me to be. As Queen of Hell, I need my High Priestess at her best. Especially now with Hell—with the _Church_ —in shambles. Rebuilding will be difficult. I can’t do it on my own,” she admitted, her voice curt, “But as a _woman_ , I’m…well, our paths have always run parallel. Somewhere deep down I think you know that. So why Blackwood? What did you see in him?” Zelda swallowed and figured that Lilith’s honesty was worth a bit more of her own.

“Power,” she answered helplessly. “I saw an opportunity. And protection for my family. With Sabrina causing trouble...Anyway, what choice did I have?” she asked Lilith as if she had the answer. Zelda had been turning to Lilith for answers since she was young, praying to her when things were particularly bad. But knowing her here in Greendale, Zelda realized how little Lilith was capable of truly giving Zelda. Nor did she seem to have an answer here. In fact, her expression never changed from its customary stoicism.

“Do you remember what it felt like when He came to you on your wedding night?” Lilith asked instead. “The way you shook like a leaf. Heart beating so fast you thought it would stop entirely. You’d never cried in front of a man before had you? Wondering what He’d do to you. Sick just thinking about it. Tell me how you felt. And tell me it was any different with Faustus.” Zelda heard then the strain in her voice, the icy sharpness behind her eyes, the familiarity. She saw the tightness in Lilith’s posture, the squeezing of her fingers, the rigidly controlled breathing. And she understood, in that moment, that Lilith was telling her that this had been her entire existence.

“I’m sorry,” Zelda said then, her voice low, surprised, brow furrowed, and her sympathy hit them both in the gut. Lilith’s mouth opened slightly, and her eyes widened. Zelda could see her scrambling to put herself back together. She’d come here to pick Zelda apart. Funny how she thought she wouldn’t have to open up in return.

“I don’t need your pity,” Lilith scoffed, and Zelda recoiled, her next words as natural and thoughtless as pulling away from a hot stove.

“I don’t need yours either,” she countered, frowning. Lilith’s defensiveness made all her attempts to get inside Zelda’s head, to maybe even help, feel ingenuine and cheap. Lilith sighed, ghosting her hand over her face.

“Look, it’s the blind leading the blind,” she explained, looking up to meet Zelda’s gaze. They both froze, Lilith’s hand open, elbow propped on the arm rest. “ _Year_ after _year_ , things don’t change for me, Zelda. But that doesn’t mean it gets any easier, that I’m any farther _removed_ than you,” she continued with a painful laugh. “We both know what it’s like being a slave to a man like Faustus...like _Him_ ,” she emphasized, her face twitching, a fire burning beneath her skin. “All I came here to tell you is that I know. _I know_ ,” Lilith’s voice cracked then, and it shot a pang through Zelda’s chest. And instead of lashing out, she fell silent, her mouth closing.

Zelda recalled what Sabrina had relayed to her from her conversation with Lilith while the two of them waited for the Dark Lord at Dorian’s. _It’s all I’ve ever known._ She remembered Sabrina pitying Lilith with a grimace like she’d bitten into a sour apple. Remembered her thinking less of Lilith for being manipulated and abused over and over again. And she remembered it hurting Zelda more than she’d expected, the pain shooting through her like a shiver, a warning. She remembered going to the bathroom later and looking at herself in the mirror and refusing to cry. And then hating herself for doing it anyway, the tears bursting from her in a stomach clenching, bone aching sob. Hunched over the sink, she knew she wouldn’t be able to tell Sabrina anything that had occurred under the Caligari spell for fear of that look, the confused pity, the superiority she oozed for not falling for it, as if it was possible not to. Perhaps that was why she’d kept it from Hilda, all this pain, the shame of it. She didn’t think she could handle her sister looking at her like that with a hesitant hand on her arm, like Zelda would shatter at the slightest touch. Maybe she would.

And then she felt ashamed for apologizing, for even implying that she was any better than Lilith. Even if to protect her own heart. “Lilith, I’m—”

“I _know_ ,” Lilith cut off, breaking Zelda from her trance. She met Lilith’s eyes and saw all the pain and anger that had turned sour and rotted behind them. She felt the dead weight in her chest that Lilith carried around, that Zelda did too, from years of it building up in the very center of her. And Zelda felt seen, understood in a way she’d never expected to be, and that was more than anyone had ever given her. She felt tears prickling at her eyes then, and she blinked as they fell. The tendons in her neck grew tight as she wiped away her tears in frustration, body stiff and quiet as the dead. And embarrassment welled in her, hot and consuming, as Lilith stood up and rounded the desk to stand in front of her. “We’re going to be okay. We have to,” she assured, grabbing onto Zelda’s arms and leaning forward to press her lips to Zelda’s forehead, slow and deep. “We can’t let them win,” she muttered against Zelda’s skin. Then she pulled away, and Zelda met her eyes. Lilith had experienced things that she couldn’t even imagine. She was timeless and ancient, but she was still here in this office, holding Zelda steady. “I will defend you and your coven against the Council if need be.”

“I—thank you,” Zelda breathed, trying desperately to collect herself, tears still drying on her cheeks.

“And I want you to be my Herald, Zelda Spellman,” she added, tilting her chin down.

Zelda blinked then, the surprise shooting through her with undignified clarity. Lilith hadn’t let go of her arms. “As you wish,” was all she managed to say. Flushed with the power of her throne, the flames of Hell flickering behind her eyes, Lilith nodded once, letting go of Zelda and stepping back.

“Trust yourself, especially now,” Lilith told her gently, and then a small smile graced her lips. But her eyes danced with a sadness so profound that Zelda felt it in her bones. And then she was gone in a gust of wind, precisely as she’d arrived. Herald? Zelda’s lashes fluttered, her mind reeling, and she grabbed onto the back of her chair for support.

“Herald?” she breathed aloud, her heart pounding in her chest. She pressed her palm to her forehead and felt Lilith’s lipstick there, sticky and red. She pulled back and stared down at her hand, taking a deep shaky breath. If the lipstick could speak, it would have said _do not be afraid, for I am with you_ . Then Zelda would have felt something settle inside her and say  _yes, I believe you._


End file.
